


Hoath

by destieltrash (orphan_account), SilverLinings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcoholism, Anxiety, Cheating, Depression, Gore, Kinky sex, M/M, Suicide, Violence, serial killer au, trigger warnings include:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3086999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/destieltrash, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverLinings/pseuds/SilverLinings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hoath: (v) to love or to worship</p><p>phrase: olani hoath ol (I love you)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written by tumblr users deanregrets.tumblr.com and deadlyclarke.tumblr.com
> 
> A cover for our story made by the amazing elucere.tumblr.com  
> http://elucere.co.vu/post/106777632102/for-the-lovely-deanregretss-story

Dean sat in class as the teacher handed back progress reports. He was nervous because school was never easy and this time around, especially this time around, Dean was working hard to improve his grades. He had high hopes for his future and he knew that he needed to work out the bad habits now. That’s why when he saw the paper in front of him he was stunned.

 

He was failing. Dean was shocked. He had honestly tried, tried so damn hard but it wasn’t even enough.

 

Dean also wasn’t going to cry.

 

His bottom lip quivered and he put his face in his hands. It was pathetic, to be upset about one failing grade but it wasn’t just this time. It was every time. No matter how much Dean tried to study, nothing stuck. A hand reached out and touched Dean on his back. He jumped and turned around, quickly wiping at his eyes before lifting his head to look at the boy who sat behind him. They’d been in school together for years but never actually had a conversation.

 

“You okay?” He asked quietly, Dean thankful that he was able to avoid alerting the rest of the class.

 

Dean shook his head. In a normal circumstance he would have lied, said he was fine, but he wasn’t at all this time and he was too damn frustrated with himself to even think of a good enough excuse. “I, uh, I failed again.” Dean muttered quietly, looking down at the desk in front of the boy, noticing his ‘A’ then looking down to the floor. He was just making a fool of himself now.

 

The boy didn’t seem to judge him, just continued on with his soothing tone. “It’s okay if you fail, things will get better,” he said softly. Dean knew he was trying to help but it only made him mad.

 

“You don’t understand though. I tried so hard. I studied all night for this last test and I have tried so hard to get my grades up but I can’t, nothing works.” Dean felt a tear slip down his face and he scrubbed at his face with his sleeve harshly, like wiping away the few tears there would fix things. It didn’t, shocker.

 

“If you want help we can meet in the library after school? My name is Castiel," the boy offered. Dean looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “I mean, I don’t have anything going on today and if you wanted help and all,” he said, leaving off and looking away, his cheeks turning red. Dean was shocked slightly, the fact that someone he barely knew was willing to help him. But that also made his spirits lift, someone wanted to spend time with him, to help him, and that was more than he got anywhere else.

 

Dean nodded his head and turned back to the front of the class, calmer than he was a few minutes ago. The ‘F’ on his paper still hurt but he had more hope now than he did before.

 

Dean, for once, had a chance.

 

When Dean walked in he found Castiel sitting at a table in the back, here, just like he said he would be and a rush of gratefulness passed over him. It wasn’t just a joke, it wasn’t just a plot to make fun of him. He walked over and took a seat, not saying anything, unsure of where to even begin. Unsure of what Castiel thought he could do.

 

“So, I want to start with English," Castiel said finally.

 

Dean panicked for a second, looking down at his lap. “What about doing geography or something first?” he ased, hoping that Castiel woulf drop it and switch topics. He didn’t give in, though.

 

“I think we should start with English,” Castiel insisted, leaving no alternative. Dean nodded, pulling out the book they were reading in class. “Have you read it at all?” Castiel asked. Dean only shook his head. Castiel let out a soft sigh and pulled his chair around to the side, sitting down by Dean. “Read it out loud to me,” he says, keeping his tone level, making sure Dean knew he wasn’t frustrated. Dean swallowed thickly, feeling his heart race and his palms get sweaty.

 

“I-it, was a s-sunny,” he paused, staring at the text in front of him. Nothing made sense. God, Dean felt embarrassed now. He couldn’t even read and this kid expected to help him. Maybe Dean was just a failure and the grade was only appropriate.

 

“ _Can_ you read?” Castiel ased, emphasizing his words. He hadn’t meant it rudely but that seemed to be what Dean was struggling with. He waited for Dean to say something but he didn’t. He only broke down and cried. Again, in the same day, Dean was showing his weakness, making a fool of himself in front of another boy, and he hated himself for that. He felt Castiel’s hand run along his back, him whispering ‘sh’ the whole time. As much as Dean hated to admit it, the other boy's actions were comforting. He tears slowed and his breathing evened out to the point where he didn’t feel like he was losing grips with himself.

 

“N-no, I can’t read.” Dean said after a moment, not caring at this point. He had shown his worst side to Castiel now, had cried in front of him, what was the worst he could do now?

 

Castiel pushed the book in front of Dean again, flipping to a random page. “You’ve never seen these words before, right?” Castiel asked. Dean nodded his head, eyebrows screwing together in his confusion. The words on the page didn’t look like words, just a mess of scribbles and lines. “Do these even make sense to you?”he asked, watching Dean carefully. Dean shook his head, explaining to Castiel that it was just scribbles and he continued on about how he was just a failure. Castiel stopped him mid-sentence. “No, Dean, this isn’t your fault. If the words here truly don’t make sense then that could be another problem. My brother Luci, he has this thing called dyslexia and it makes it hard for him to recognize shapes and such. Maybe that’s what you have too, maybe you can’t recognize words very well.” Castiel explained, hoping that Dean didn’t take offense to it. Dean sat back in his chair, thinking over what Castiel said. Of course though, in Dean’s mind, it was all just an attack on him.

 

“So is that just some fancy word for stupid?” Dean asked, feeling like he did before stepping foot in the library, thinking that maybe this was just a set up for a good laugh on Castiel’s part.

 

“No, Dean, God no," Castiel said hurriedly. “Dyslexia has nothing to do with intelligence. It’s just an obstacle you need to overcome. If you practice in the right way then you can train yourself to recognize things that you can’t now. It’s just about practice,” he finished, smiling slightly at the end. “I’ll help you, okay?” he added, resting his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

 

Dean stared down at the hand, contemplating the new offer, contemplating what Castiel described about what he may or may not have. “Okay.” He said finally.

 

It took Dean forever to forget the idea that Castiel was lying. Every time he walked into the library, week after week, he was surprised to see that Castiel genuinely cared. He was surprised to see that Castiel was sitting in the same seat, every single day, as promised. What surprised Dean most of all was the difference it made. It wasn’t a huge difference, Dean still struggled understanding what he had been given but Castiel had shown him how to practice on his own time. He had given him a copy of an old ratty book which Dean read lines from over and over. It was slow going but it helped. He was able to recognize certain words, able to guess about the rest of the sentence, piece together things bit by bit. After a month of working his grades showed little improvement. They were still low, three of the grades a solid ‘F’, two having moved up to a ‘D’, but his English grade was a solid ‘C’. That was more than enough for Dean.

 

Castiel still promised to help him, cutting back their practicing to two days a week and expecting Dean to work on his own at home too. Dean kept his word, doing everything Castiel asked of him, growing to believe that Castiel wasn’t malicious or planning to turn this around and get everyone to laugh at him. He grew to think of Castiel as a friend, a best friend. Castiel was so easy to talk to, there wasn't any worry or secrets between them. It was just easy and comforting and fun. And maybe that's where Dean got mixed up.

 

At first he was confused, scared, no, he was terrified. Castiel was his friend, of course he didn't want to kiss his friend. But he did. No matter how many times Dean told himself that it was wrong and it was weird he couldn't deny that when he spaced off in class, his thoughts always lead right back to Castiel and more often than not, it wasn't just friendly. It wasn't even a fact that they were both boys, that never even occurred to Dean, he was more scared of the fact that he was clueless on what to do. Was he supposed to kiss Castiel? Is that acceptable? Dean really didn't know and that was what scared him most.

 

He finally realized that yes, he did like Cas and yes, he fucking hated himself for it. It was all wrong, to have fallen so quickly and easily for this kid. And what would John say? Dean knew, knew so deep down that it couldn’t possibly be anything else, that John would yell at him and scream for liking another boy. It hadn’t bothered Dean, but he knew that John would absolutely hate it.

 

So with that, Dean’s self-loathing grew. He was scared and angry and sad. Scared because _whatdoIdowhatdoIdo, I actually like someone_ , angry because it’s all so damn wrong and so, so stupid, and sad because he knew that no matter what things wouldn’t work out for him. Dean wasn’t meant for this sort of thing, he knew that, had for awhile. Like his dad had told him time after time, his sole job was Sammy. Protect Sammy, always Sammy, nothing but Sammy.

 

_“When I’m not around son, I need you to look after your brother, don’t let anything happen to him.”_ And so help him, Dean never let anything happen. But that’s all he did.

 

None of the inner turmoil stopped Dean from admiring Castiel from a new perspective during the next session. Instead of just looking upon him as a friend, Dean was looking at things a friend wouldn’t normally notice. His lips, eyes, his hair, how he liked each and every one of those things. Particularly his lips. They were oh-so pink and it was much harder than he had originally thought to look away from. Cas sat there and talked, explaining something about the book that Dean should have been paying attention to but he couldn’t. He honest to God couldn’t.

 

The next time it was Castiel’s face in general. How his eyes seemed to have a light shining behind them, so blue that they lit up the rest of his face. How his whole face just seemed to be so damned perfect that it hurt Dean’s heart. How his hair was just the right amount of I-didn’t-brush-today and styled. Dean knew that Castiel had noticed his staring, had yet again tried to look away but still couldn’t. He’d just tell Castiel that he was tired and spacing off, his face just _happened_ to get in the way.

 

After they were done with tutoring for the day, Castiel offered to walk Dean out to the end of the schools parking lot, knowing that Dean would walk the rest of the way home. At first Dean was confused, knowing that Castiel didn’t usual walk him out of the building.

 

“You don’t need to do this, I can get out of here just fine,” Dean said, frustrated that his friend thought so little. He may not be great at reading but he still knew his way around.

 

“I just wanted to talk,” Castiel said, kicking at a stone on the sidewalk. Dean pursed his lips a moment, calming down a little. He was sort of thankful, deep down, because all this meant was more time with Castiel, more time to talk, admire, swoon.

 

It was a silent walk, neither knowing what to say to the other. Dean was giddy inside, just being around Castiel making him happier by the second. He could tell he was falling, harder each time they met but he had no idea how to stop it, or for that matter, if he even wanted to stop it.

 

They reached the road where Dean would turn right and go home and Cas would go back to school and get his things. Dean wasn’t even sure what was expected of him at this point, did he just walk away? say good bye? He was clueless.

 

“You’ve done good lately,” Castiel said, averting his eyes from Dean, his body posture radiating nervousness. He wasn’t usually like this, was usually the confident boy that had approached Dean months before. Dean’s mind spun, automatically thinking that he had screwed things up, that it was his fault and Castiel was mad at him. He wanted to scream at himself, knew it must have been all those times admiring Castiel in the library. That Castiel somehow knew about Dean’s feelings and he was disgusted.

 

Dean nodded, looking across the street to find something else to focus on, wanting to keep from crying until he was at least away from Castiel.

 

“I, uh.” Castiel was fidgeting now, Dean looking back to find Castiel staring. All the movement was starting to make Dean nervous and he wasn’t sure what was even going on yet. He stood frozen as he watched Castiel move, slowly at first as he moved closer to Dean, then finally it seemed Castiel resolved something inside himself and he leaned in quickly, pressing his lips to Dean’s for a second before pulling away. He smiled shyly, whispering goodbye before turning and hurrying off towards the school. Dean stood there for a moment, stunned as he watched Castiel disappear back into the school. It took him a moment longer to realize that Castiel wasn’t disgusted with him, his feelings were returned because that was most definitely Castiel kissing _him_ and not the other way around. So he went home happy, the feeling of wanting to cry long since passed, his mind spinning about what that kiss meant and what would happen, but most of all, he was just happy.

 

~~~

 

Three months went by and they were still doing lessons every week in the library, they were still just as close, things were still great, the only difference is now they were together. Castiel would walk Dean through the halls, his hand gripping onto Dean’s tightly, never letting go, making sure everyone knew that Dean was his. It was stupid and they were young and childish but they were happy. Dean was forever grateful for all that Castiel had done, for all the help, for the strength he’d been given and it only made sense that he say yes when Castiel asked him out.

 

~~~

 

It was two  years later, freshman year of high school and the two boys were still together. Exceeding everyone’s expectation, thinking they’d have broken up after a week.

 

“Quit calling me ‘Castiel’,” he complained, “that’s what my family calls me.” Dean snorted, rolling over on the floor of his boyfriends room, glaring at him playfully.

 

“What the hell do you expect me to call you?” Dean replied.

 

“Cas,” he said, smiling at Dean.

 

~~~

 

It was six years. They had been together six years. Dean and Cas were on the homecoming stretch of high school, months away from freedom, from adulthood, from being their own person without the limits of others. Everyone had long since given up on the ‘wow they’re still together?’ jokes and was now tossing around new ones about ‘hey, when’s the wedding?’

 

Dean and Cas didn’t mind.

 

~~~

 

Three months from graduation and Cas came home with bad news. He had tears in his eyes and a slump in his shoulders. Dean pulled him into a hug, holding him tight against his body, shushing him as Cas shook with quiet sobs. Dean was scared, knowing it couldn’t be good, that things were about to happen but he didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to hear, but he knew he had to. He pushed lightly on Cas’ arms, coming face to face with him. Cas sniffled, wiping at the tears on his face before taking in a shaky inhale.

 

“I-I have to move,” Cas whispered, the words coming out so quiet Dean was sure he’d missed them.

 

“No,” Dean said firmly, not willing himself to believe it. Cas only nodded his head, his face scrunching up again as fresh tears spilled from his eyes. Dean knew where this was headed, heading for a trainwreck and he was about to do everything he could to stop it. “No, Cas, we can work this out. Where are you moving to?” he asked, holding tight to Cas’ arms, trying to give off the impression of the fact that he’s never leaving, that he’s here for good.

 

“Florida,” he said, looking down to the ground.

 

Dean could have sworn he felt his stomach fall to the ground, feeling his insides hollow out. He didn’t know that ‘move’ meant other side of the country, that it would be that much harder to see Cas. He had assumed it was going to be an hour drive, maybe two, but now a five hour _plane ride_?

 

“Cas, I know what you’re thinking and you need to stop, right now. Do not think for a second that we can’t work it out. We can do this. Long distance is killer but it’s only a couple months, yeah? Then I’ll move to Florida, I’ll do it for you. I’ll move and things will be fine.” He was panicking now, thinking that what if Cas dumped him here and now. He didn’t know he could make it through that. Cas had been the one who was there for him through everything. Cas was the one who helped him through the most difficult thing in his life, without Cas he would have never overcome dyslexia or anything else in his life. He would still be that scared little seventh grader that didn’t know how to ask for help.

 

Cas shook his head, twisting out of Dean’s grip. “We can’t Dean, you’ll find someone else and move on and I, I can’t deal with that.” He was whispering, like he was trying to convince himself instead of Dean. Dean thought for a moment that maybe he wasn’t there at all, that Cas was just talking to himself. At least that’s what it felt like. It felt like Dean was gone, that it was just his body there, just going through the motions, knowing already that he lost the battle.

 

“Cas, please,” was all he could get out, his own voice thick and shaking, tears starting to sting his eyes.

 

“Fuck you!” Cas yelled, his voice raising significantly. “It won’t fucking work out, Dean. You’re gonna find someone else and get bored of me and you’re just gonna fucking leave me.” Dean took a step back, not understanding how or why Cas has come to that conclusion. Hadn’t six years proved anything to him? Dean was just shocked, his mind still back at Florida and not quite processing what was happening, he wasn’t sure he’d ever process this at all. “I’m done,” Cas said again, voice back to a normal level. “I don’t want to fucking see you. You’re just a pathetic excuse for a boy.” With that Cas turned and left. Dean watched as he walked away, down the porch and out into the street, turning towards his own house and never once looking back at Dean.

 

Dean slowly shut the door, pressing his back against it and feeling his knees buckle, sliding to the floor and his mind reminding him over and over that that was the last he’d see of Cas. That was the last words he’d ever hear. The last time he’d see those shining eyes though now that Dean thinks of it, they weren’t shining. They were stormy and grey, lifeless and bland, maybe that was only a reflection of himself though.

  
His strong front flooded, tears spilling out of his eyes and his body shaking from head to toe, whether it was from sobs or just the anxiety attack, Dean didn’t know. All he knew was that he was alone again, that he was stuck with himself, his thoughts, his self-loathe, a warm presence that wedged itself back in. Cas leaving his mind and his own hatred worming its way back. Dean thought it had been put in a box, kept away, but it seemed that Cas had done that, had taken it from him and re-gifted it as a present, waiting till just the right time to unleash it. And boy did he unleash it.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was the happiest he’d been in a long time.

 

He had a job, friends, an apartment, what else could he ask for?

 

Besides, of course, less debt.

 

Dean tried not to think about that. Tonight was all about celebration. He was with Charlie and Benny. Jo was making sure nobody was without beer. They had all graduated recently, and were basking in the freedom. Tomorrow, Dean and Charlie would start working and Benny was leaving for Boston, but tonight was beer and laughter.

 

“Hey, Dean,” said Charlie, a sly grin on her face.

 

“Yeah?” Dean took another swallow of his beer.

 

“I think that guy is checking you out,” said Charlie in a stage whisper. Dean was pretty sure that she was being a lot louder than she thought she was.

 

Jo glanced over Dean’s shoulder and licked her bottom lip. “Damn,” she marveled, “If you’re not taking him, I will.”

 

Dean snorted and turned. “He can’t be-” All the breath left his body as his mouth fell open. “Holy shit.”

 

“Told you,” said Jo, still staring.

 

Benny furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong, brother?”

 

Emotion swirled in Dean, making him half want to throw up and half want to shout with joy. Benny stared at him, concern creasing his face. Charlie and Jo, realizing something was wrong, looked at Dean, their worry evident.

 

“That’s Cas,” was all Dean could manage.

 

Benny and Jo’s faces fell, understanding and sympathy in their gazes. Charlie, who was drunk, almost tipped out of her chair. Again too loudly, she said, “Who the fuck is Cas?”

 

“Keep it down,” said Dean. Cas wasn’t far away. “We were together for six years and he dumped me senior year. I haven’t seen him since.”

 

“So…” Charlie’s face creased trying to do the math. “Since seventh grade?” Dean nodded. “Douche,” Charlie muttered into her bottle. Dean smiled.

 

“True.”

 

“You going to say something?” asked Jo, passing Dean another beer.

 

“No,” said Benny forcefully. “Not with the shit he said to you.”

 

“Benny, it’s cool, all right? Calm down,” said Dean.

 

“Dean?” Dean closed his eyes in resignation. He turned around, setting down his beer. Cas was standing there, looking annoyingly good.

 

“What?” he asked, crossing his arms.

 

Cas’ face fell at Dean’s hostile tone. “I wanted to apologize,” he offered.

 

“For what, exactly? Saying all that crap? Dumping me? Not staying in touch for three years? What are you gonna say that’ll make that okay, Cas?” Dean is pretty sure that Cas could say anything and Dean would take him back, but Cas couldn’t know that. Benny was right; Cas didn’t deserve Dean back.

 

Cas knitted his brows, tilting his head. Dean wanted to strangle him for being so damn irresistible. “I said terrible things, and I know that they are difficult to forgive. But we have none of the obstacles that we did in high school. Here there are no parents, no school-“

 

“I went to college.” Dean cut Cas off before he said anything that convinced Dean.

 

“Congratulations, Dean,” Cas said, his face splitting into a wide grin. Pride glowed in his eyes. “I knew you could.”

 

Dean could feel his resolve breaking.

 

“In addition to apologizing, I wanted to ask if- if we could- um, perhaps go out? Sometime?” Cas asked, his gaze dropping to the floor on the last word. Dean hated that he found it so cute. Cas waited for an answer, pink lips slightly parted.

 

“Fine,” said Dean finally. He ignored Benny’s warning.

 

“Dean, are you-“

 

“Yeah,” said Dean. He grabbed Cas’ hand and scribbled his number on his hand. “You can call me. Bye, Cas.”

 

Cas’ grin stretched ear to ear. “Thank you, Dean. You won’t regret it.” With that, he left, staring down at the number on his palm like it was the most precious thing in the world.

 

“You might,” said Charlie, unusually somber for being drunk. “He’s pretty, but he was a douche.”

 

“I don’t know,” said Jo. “I mean, he seems pretty sincere. Dean said the reason they broke up was because he moved.”

 

“Yeah, but he said a lot of shit that didn’t do nothing good for Dean,” argued Benny. “You didn’t know him when he got here.”

 

“I’m here,” Dean interrupted, “and I’m going out with him. But just once. He only gets one chance.”

 

~

 

It took less than twelve hours for Cas to call.

 

Dean got up early to go to work, and there was already a text on his phone. He didn’t have time to answer it then, so he ruffled Sam’s hair, grabbed his bag, and left.

 

During lunch, Dean’s phone buzzed with a call. Ignoring Charlie’s orders to “hang up and let me steal your fries,” Dean picked up.

 

“Cas?”

 

“Hello, Dean.”

 

“I’m at work, Cas. Can you make this quick?”

 

“Oh.” Cas’ voice was suddenly full of nervousness. Dean smirked. He had always liked making Cas squirm. “I’m sorry. Should I call back?”

 

“Nah, you already called. What?”

 

“I was-” Cas seemed to take a moment to steel himself and continued. “I was wondering if you’d let me take you out tomorrow. About seven.”

 

Dean intended to toy with him a bit, but instead of “I don’t know,” what came out of his mouth was “‘Course. Here’s my address.”

 

So much for making him squirm.

 

~

 

Dean was more than a little nervous. He hadn’t been on a date in a while, and he still wasn’t sure where exactly Cas was taking them. Sam was sitting on the couch, eating chips and looking amused, the little shit.

 

“Shouldn’t you be watching TV?” snapped Dean, running from the kitchen to his bedroom with one sock, pajama pants, and a dress shirt on.

 

Sam popped another chip in his mouth and crunched it loudly. “You getting ready for a date is quality entertainment.”

 

“Shut up, Sam.”

 

After a good twenty minutes, Dean had finally settled on his appearance. Sam had lost interest and was now watching Judge Judy. The buzzer rang and Dean almost jumped out of his skin.

 

“He’s here, Sam!” hissed Dean.

 

“Yeah. That’s what happens when you go on a date. Relax, Dean. If you go as well together as you did in high school, you’ll be screwing each other’s brains out within the week.” Sam stood and wiped his salty fingers on his pajama pants before letting Cas in. Dean tried to throw everything in the apartment into its proper place before Cas knocked on the door.

 

Sam opened the door. “Hey, Cas,” he said.

 

“Hello, Sam,” said Cas, smiling broadly. His eyes were almost immediately drawn to Dean, though.

 

“Just so you know, my brother was a mess after you dumped him, so if you screw him up again, there are a couple people we know who can and will beat the crap out of you,” said Sam casually.

 

Dean was finding it hard to subtly death-glare at Sam when Cas kept staring at Dean.

“This has been great. Let’s go,” Dean said, not even trying to hide his eagerness to leave.

 

“Okay…” Cas said, who had obviously been getting more confused the more time he spent in the apartment. Dean hurried them out, and he heard Sam shouting “Have a nice date!” just before the door slammed shut.

 

“Hate that kid,” Dean muttered.

 

“No, you don’t.”

 

“No,” Dean agreed. “I don’t.”

 

The restaurant wasn’t far. It was one of those expensive French places with hot waiters. The menu was kind of scaring Dean; he didn’t recognize much of anything.

He decided on a burger.

 

Setting his menu down, he realized Cas was still perusing it.

 

“Ready to order?” asked a waiter, pen poised.

 

“Yeah, a burger.” Dean tried not to look at the disdainful look on the waiter’s face.

Cas, however, narrowed his eyes at the waiter’s contempt. “I’ll have a burger, too. And I’ll thank you not to be a superior ass to a man who has probably accomplished more when he was in seventh grade than you ever have.” Cas set down the menu. The waiter, mouth open, stared at Cas. Dean looked up at the waiter, pasting a what-are-ya-gonna-do grin on his face. The waiter pursed his lips and left without another word.

 

Dean began to laugh as Cas sipped his water and gave Dean a small smile.

“That was awesome, Cas,” Dean said, grinning.

 

“He had no right to look down on you,” Cas said.

 

“That doesn’t stop people most of the time,” said Dean. He shrugged. “It’s okay. If I can prove them wrong, great. If I can’t, then I guess I deserve it anyway, right?”

 

“Don’t speak that way,” Cas said sharply, startling Dean. “You deserve none of it.”

 

Dean wasn’t really sure what to say. He picked up his glass and took a drink of water. “Well, I-” He stopped. “Thanks, Cas.”

 

The conversation continued, flowing easily and comfortably. There was none of the first date awkwardness, and all of the excitement of a new boyfriend. Time slipped by until it was eleven o’clock and Dean was jumping out of his seat, realizing that he needed to be home if he was going to get enough sleep for work the next day.

 

“Ah, crap, man, I’m sorry,” said Dean, glancing at his watch. “I gotta go. Work tomorrow.”

 

“Of course,” said Cas, smiling. He signaled for the check. “I’ll take you home?”

 

“Sure,” Dean said, trying to hide the broad smile tugging at his lips.

 

As they walked toward Dean’s apartment building, they talked and laughed, nothing meaningful. Dean remembered what it was like to be with Cas, the easy laughter, the sweet smiles, the way Cas stared when he thought Dean couldn’t see.

 

As they reached the building, Dean stopped. He didn’t get his keys out quite yet, though. He looked at Cas.

 

“I just wanted to say thanks again, for saying what you did to that waiter,” Dean told him.

 

“Anything for you, Dean,” Cas said, looking at Dean with his familiar disarming gaze. Dean felt his breath hitch in his chest. With that, he pulled Cas to him and finally, finally, he was kissing Cas again. He had no idea how much he’d missed the feel of the slightly chapped lips, the large hands pressing on his back. There were new things too, rougher stubble chafing Dean’s chin and longer hair for Dean to wind his fingers in.

 

It was one of the best moments of Dean’s life.

 

It had turned from a kiss to a full-on make-out when Dean felt something showering down on their heads. He pulled away and looked up. Cas did the same.

 

Sam was leaning out of the window, throwing rice from the 20 pound bag Dean had bought last week.

 

“Quit wasting food!” yelled Dean. “That’s tomorrow’s dinner, asshole!”

 

“There’ll still be enough left for when you get hitched!” called down Sam.

 

Dean glanced back at Cas to see him silently shaking with laughter.

 

“What are you laughing at?” he asked, unable to stop the grin from spreading on his face.

 

“Nothing,” said Cas, composing himself. “I just forgot how much I missed you and Sam’s arguing.”

  
“Shut up,” Dean smiled, pulling Cas back to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean laid in bed with Cas at his side, their arms around each other. Cas had stayed the night at Dean’s again, happy to comfort Dean anytime. Although Dean did forget about the next days events, like work.

 

Sam ran into his room, shielding his eyes. “God, Dean, put some pants on that’s gross,” he complained, turning his back and standing in the doorway. Dean rolled over onto his back, groaning something about it being early. “Work, Dean," Sam said, leaving the room when he heard Dean muttering ‘shit’ over and over.

 

Dean climbed over Cas, tripping over the clothes on his floor to get to the closet. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbled again, looking for something presentable that would still be considered clean. Cas rolled over and watched Dean, laughing silently at how ridiculous Dean looked hopping around his room with his pants halfway on. Dean was still muttering profanities, unaware of the eyes on his back.

 

“Come back to bed,” Cas said, voice gravelly from sleep. Dean stopped for a moment, turning back and staring at Cas with wide eyes. 

  
“Crap, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He said, finally getting his pants on and buttoned up.

 

“I’m sure you didn’t but here I am now, wide awake. Come back and lay with me,” Cas insisted, patting the spot beside him and grinning lazily at Dean. It was so tempting to just crawl back in bed beside Cas and curl up, Dean wanted to more than anything but looking at the clock he knew he needed to go to work.

 

“Cas, I can’t. I’ve got work.” He mumbled, gathering his jacket and shoes, about to put them on.

 

“Please?” Cas asked again, Dean looked at him and God damn, no one should be able to look so sad. Dean gave in, crawling back over to Cas and resting his head on Cas’ chest. They didn’t talk, just laid together and enjoyed each others warmth. It was quiet and relaxing and comforting and Dean completely forgot that he had a life outside of the bed.

 

Sam came in again, sighing in relief that at least this time his brother was dressed. “Dean, get your ass up. It’s seven-thirty.” Dean groaned, pressing closer to Cas and hugging him tighter, stalling as long as he could.

 

Sam didn’t leave until Dean agreed to get out of bed, complaining the whole time about how they ‘need the money to pay for bills’ and ‘for God’s sake Dean, you’re an adult, act like it.’

 

Cas leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Dean’s head, pushing him away and out of bed before Dean could protest and cuddle up further.

 

~~~

 

Cas had nowhere to be that day, deciding he would talk to Sam and get to know him better, hoping that he and Dean would last.

 

“Why aren’t you even in school? Shouldn’t you be?” Cas questioned, looking curiously at Sam. It wasn’t what he had originally planned to ask but it’ll do for the time being.

 

“It’s cute of you to worry. But no, no school. Graduated high school like, what, a month ago? You’re behind on the times, man,” Sam answered with a chuckle. Cas nodded, arguing with himself internally about if he should even ask, he decided he should.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Cas asked, standing opposite of Sam and fiddling with his fingers, avoiding Sam’s now curious eyes.

 

“Yeah, sure,” he said, leaning against the counter and watching Cas.

 

Cas hesitantly looked up, meeting eyes with Sam. He was relieved to see there wasn’t any anger, that he didn’t hate Cas. It calmed some of his worries.

 

“Dean and I, getting back together, does that bother you? Please be honest, I am curious of what you think,” he finally got out, tilting his head, the corner of his mouth tilting down.

 

Sam was silent for a moment, sorting through his feelings and thoughts on the subject. “I don’t hate it. You make him happy, Cas, always have. He’s happier now than he has been in a long time and there’s really only one person to blame for that. I’m just nervous, I guess. When you left him senior year he was a mess. He was for a long time and it was hard to see him like that. Like I said before, you hurt him and there is nothing stopping me from hurting you.”   
  


Cas felt the guilt rising. He had known that Dean wasn’t okay after their break-up but hearing it spoken out loud to him was harder than imagined. Cas sighed, looking away from Sam in favor of the countertop.

 

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that to him. Looking back now, he was being reasonable. But you should also know, I didn’t handle it well either. I mean who would? Six years and you really grow to care for someone.” He said, smiling as he thought about the past. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to do that. he had forced himself to close that door long ago in a coping method and it was nice to be back, to not feel pain and regret laced with it completely.

 

“No, I get it Cas. You guys were young and stressed out. People do crazy things. Just, don’t do that to him again? Think about things before you make a decision because he won’t be able to go back there and come out of it.”

 

~~~

 

Cas and Sam grew bored of watching TV, Cas smiling smugly after a moment of thinking.

 

“Bet you ten bucks I can kick your ass at Mariokart,” Cas said to Sam.

 

Sam perked up at the challenge, smiling back at Cas. “Deal, best two of three?” He asked and Cas nodded.

 

Cas sat there silently, being smug all the while because he is the best damn player around. Sam handed him a controller and they set up their game, Cas going for Yoshi as always and Sam going for Diddy Kong. The game stared and Cas took the lead, his cockiness growing. It didn’t take long though for him to fall behind, finishing the first round in eighth place. The scores came across the screen and he saw that Sam was in first place. The color drained from his face momentarily, fearing that he risked his ten dollars. “Still got two more rounds.” Sam said in a mock tone of sympathy, loving that he beat someone he’d describe as ‘a cocky asshole.’

 

Cas ended up winning, his heart hammering the whole time. It was annoying him greatly because he came into this with the mindset of winning yet here he is, tied with Sam.

 

The middle of the last round Dean walked in, grinning as he saw the two of them playing a game, both bickering when the other attacked each other with some power up. It’s something that Dean had pictured in his head for a long time. His family and his loved one getting along and enjoying one anothers company, to see that happening in real time was enough to make his heart jump to his throat.

 

Sam won, snatching the ten dollars from Cas’ hand and dancing around the room, yelling about how he kicked Cas’ ass. Dean watched as Cas sat there and grumped, mumbling about cheating. 

 

“You had two blue shells throughout that round, Cas, how could you lose to Sammy?” Dean asked, smiling when Cas turned to glare at him.

 

“He rigged it! I was doing fine until he did that thing, with the thing,” Cas realized he had no ammo, slowly losing speed, “whatever, all I know is he cheated.” Cas crossed his arms over his chest, slouching in his chair.

 

Sam left the room to go get a glass of water, calling over his shoulder as he went, “No, you just suck!”

 

Cas didn’t even acknowledge the comment, glaring at the screen in front of him. “Okay, okay, another round?” Dean asked, getting up and grabbing himself a controler. Sam came back and sat down, the three starting a new game and picking out characters. Cas and Sam went for the same as last time, Dean going for his usual character, Daisy. Cas laughed when he saw that.

 

“Daisy? Really, Dean? Isn’t that lame,” He said, knowing that he’d beat at least one of the Winchesters this time around.  
  


He was wrong, so very, very wrong.

 

Dean won, first place all three rounds, Sam coming in far behind but still with a second and Cas finishing with a measly seventh place.

 

Dean kissed the top of Cas’ head as he went out to the kitchen to make dinner, leaving the other two behind to talk. It was nothing fancy, just some spaghetti and a salad but it was the first time that Dean had had both Sam and Cas there for dinner and he couldn't help how happy he was. He felt like for once the pieces that were his life were falling into place, like this was what he was meant for and that things would turn out okay.

 

Dinner was nice, the three of them easily carrying conversation, laughing and joking, having an all around good time. Dean sat there a moment, watching Sam and Cas talk, both of them smiling and laughing. Cas seemed to fit in so well and so easily.

 

Dean cleaned all the dishes up, washing them and putting them away before joining the other two on the couch for a movie. Dean curled up on the couch, resting his head on Cas’ lap. Sam sat on the other side, his foot resting over his other knee. Dean sat there for a moment, seeing his brothers shoe out of the corner of his eye and his nerves slowly elevating. Dean tried for the longest time to focus on the movie playing, wanting to watch but realizing pretty quickly that he couldn’t.

 

“Sam, move your damn foot, it’s in my face.” He complained finally, shifting slightly on Cas’ lap. Cas brought his hand up to Dean’s hair, carding through it in an attempt to calm him since it was more and more obvious that Dean was annoyed.

 

“No, you move your face.” Sam argued, slouching against the couch which only stuck his foot out farther.

 

“You better watch it or my face might land other places,” Dean said, the corner of his mouth twitching while he turned his face into Cas’ thigh, nudging it with his nose.

 

“That is disgusting, Dean!” Sam growled, knowing what Dean implied. Cas only sighed, knowing if he didn’t end it now it would go on all night.

 

“Would you two shut up? I’m trying to watch the movie.”

 

The two did shut up but it didn’t stop either of them from purposely trying to irritate the other.

 

~~~

 

Three months later and Sam was heading off to college. It was a bittersweet moment for Dean.

 

He was definitely happy that his little brother managed to get into Stanford, not only that but even getting a full ride. It was an amazing feat and Dean couldn’t help himself as he beamed in pride the whole drive to the airport. The only downside was that his brother would be across the country from him. As much as Dean and Sam bickered around each other, he couldn’t help but admit how much the kid meant to him.

 

The three of them stood in the airport, none of them really wanting to say goodbye.

 

“My plane leaves soon,” Sam said finally, toeing at the ground with his shoe. Cas pulled him into a hug.

 

“Good luck, Sam. You deserve this so much. Gonna miss kicking your ass at video games though,” Cas laughed, releasing Sam and smiling at him.

 

“Yeah, you beating me, nice one, Cas.”

 

It was Dean’s turn, Sam turning to face him, his face lit up in a smile but his eyes showing that he was sad to leave his brother. Dean grabbed him and pulled him into a hug, holding on tighter than he should have but Dean knew it would be the last one for awhile. He needed to get all of the hugs made up for now. “Sam, do good, okay?” Sam nodded against Dean’s shoulder, squeezing his big brother for emphasis. “I am so proud of you. My little brother? At Stanford. Jesus, kid.” Dean was bad with words but he knew he got his point across, knew that Sam understood that it meant so much more than just pride.

 

“Come on, Dean. I’ll be back for Christmas, promise,” Sam consoled. Dean let go at that, wiping his cheeks quickly in an attempt to hide his tears.

 

“Yeah, I know you will. Now get lost.” Dean smiled at him, Sam laughing at Dean’s attempt to lighten the mood.

 

Dean and Cas waited as Sam went through security, leaving only when Dean lost sight of Sam. It was a quiet ride home, Cas understanding that it was a change for Dean, not used to being without his brother.

 

“Want me to stay the night?” Cas asked, watching Dean carefully. He was pleased to see that it had made Dean smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

 

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

 

So Cas stayed the night. There wasn’t anything special planned, a small dinner, mac ‘n’ cheese, to be exact. They watched a movie afterwards and talked and laughed. It was an easy night and Dean was thankful for Cas being there.

 

“Hey, uh, Cas, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” Dean said finally, slinking back slightly from Cas’ touch. The gesture itself concerned Cas, making him wary of what the question might be. He nodded for Dean to continue anyway. “Things have been pretty good lately and now with Sam gone for awhile, it’s a pretty big apartment for one guy,” Dean hesitated, looking up and meeting Cas’ eyes. “I was wondering if you’d move in with me?” Dean got out, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

 

Cas smiled wide, wariness gone.

  
“Of course.”


	4. Chapter 4

By the time October rolled around, they had settled into a routine. Cas got a job at a nearby gas station. They both left for work at around the same time, although Dean usually got home much later than Cas. Cas would spend his alone time doing small errands, paying bills, cleaning up, going food shopping. Dean would come home at around six and make dinner.

 

Dean liked their system. Money was tight, especially now that they were sending money to Sam whenever they could, but life was okay.

 

Dean was content.

 

~

 

When Dean got home from work that day, Cas was lying on the couch half asleep with the Food Network on.

 

“Hey, lazy-ass!” shouted Dean, dropping his bag on the ground. Cas started awake.

 

“Hello, Dean,” he said sleepily, smiling at Dean. Dean pulled off his jacket and kissed Cas’ forehead.

 

“Have you been watching Chopped since you got home?” Dean asked as he went into the kitchen.

 

“Not all day,” said Cas, propping himself up on one elbow. “Cutthroat Kitchen was on an hour ago.”

 

Dean chuckled. “What’s for dinner?” he asked, opening the refrigerator.

 

“Oh, I forgot to get food. But there’s leftovers,” said Cas.

 

“Chicken then.” Dean put two plates of chicken in the microwave.

 

Their life might have been boring, but being a domestic, boring, old-and-married couple with Cas was better than being an excited teenage couple.

 

After dinner, Dean changed into sweatpants and sprawled across the couch. Cas, having finished the dishes, came over, wiping his hands. “What’s on?” he asked.

 

“Star Wars?” asked Dean hopefully. Cas let out a groan and rolled his eyes.

 

“Fine,” he said. “Move.”

 

Grinning smugly, Dean lifted his head to let Cas sit down. Once Cas was situated, Dean laid his head on Cas’ lap. Cas began running his fingers through Dean’s hair. He did it so often that Dean was pretty sure that at this point Cas didn’t even realize he was doing it. Dean didn’t mind, though.

 

Dean had watched the movie a million times, and it still took up all of his attention. But Dean didn’t miss it when Cas, his gaze not breaking from the screen, said quietly, “I love you, Dean.”

 

Dean considered making a fuss out of it. Marking the date down as the anniversary of the first I love you, turn off the movie and have a relationship discussion, or whatever it was that couples did. But Dean just… didn’t want to. They had already been through way too much drama.

 

So what Dean said was, “I love you.”

 

And that was it.

 

Dean wouldn’t have had it any other way.

 

~

 

It was the day after Halloween. Dean was tired from handing out candy until ten o’clock and chasing away older kids the rest of the night. Thankfully, he had the day off, so he was planning on doing nothing all day.

 

If it weren’t for his overly festive boyfriend.

 

Dean was lying on the couch, and Cas was running around the apartment putting up wreaths and bells and tinsel and God knew what else.

 

Finally, after Cas’ fifth (awful) rendition of ‘Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer,’ Dean decided it was probably time to say something.

 

“Cas, it’s the day after Halloween. Two months before Christmas. Might be a little early, don’t you think?” Dean asked, sitting up and looking at Cas.

 

“Christmas is good, though.” Dean opened his mouth to speak. “No, it’s nice and we’re doing it now,” Cas added before Dean could protest.

 

“Fine,” said Dean reluctantly. “But we’re not getting a tree until it’s actually December.”

 

Cas smiled, and all the stupid Christmas songs and decorations were worth it to see it light up Cas’ eyes.

 

Cas kissed Dean. Dean pulled Cas onto the couch before he could pull away. “Stay,” Dean said. “No more Christmas for now.”

 

“Couch is too small,” said Cas. He adjusted himself so that they could both fit on it. And so that his thigh was rubbing Dean’s crotch.

 

“I love you, Dean,” said Cas quietly, snuggling into Dean’s shoulder.

 

“Love you too, Cas.” Dean laid his head back, wondering how the hell someone like Cas had happened to someone like Dean. However it had happened, Dean decided he wasn’t complaining.

 

Dean’s last sensation before dozing off was Cas kissing his jaw and resting his own cheek on Dean’s chest.

 

~

 

“What are you doing?” asked Cas, watching Dean in the kitchen.

 

“Making pizza,” Dean answered, his voice already stubborn in case Cas tried to argue.

 

“Okay,” Cas said. Dean heard Cas walk up behind him. He could almost feel Cas’ eyes on him as Dean started making the dough. Cas was so close Dean could practically feel the heat coming off of him.

 

“Done yet?” asked Cas, his lips brushing Dean’s jaw.

 

“I just started.” Dean tried to ignore Cas, but it was hard with Cas’ fingers wandering to all the distracting places.

 

When Dean finally left the dough to rise, Cas pushed him against the counter and started kissing him.

 

“You’re hot when you cook,” muttered Cas against Dean’s lips.

 

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” mumbled Dean. Dean felt Cas smile.

 

“No.”

 

He pulled away when Cas reached for Dean’s jeans. “I gotta make the tomato sauce.”

 

“Go ahead,” said Cas, closing the distance between them.

 

Dean laughed, letting Cas kiss him for a while, but then pushed him away. “I’m serious.”

 

“Okay, okay,” relented Cas.

 

Cas then proceeded to distract Dean for the next hour and a half. It was a relief when Dean could finally put the pizza in the oven.

 

~

Dean leaned over and pushed the pizza into the oven, closing the door and admiring his work for a second. His thoughts were cut off quickly when Cas slapped his ass, leaving a stinging feeling in its wake.

 

“What the hell?” Dean yelled, turning around quickly to find Cas dashing towards the living room, running from Dean and laughing hysterically. Dean couldn’t help but smile, quickly following after him. He caught up with Cas and shoved him against a wall, trapping him there and grinning mischievously. Cas smirked at him and reversed the positions, smirking back.

 

It didn’t take long for Dean’s lips to find Cas’ and it took even less time for things to get heated. Dean pulled Cas in closer, his hands going to grab at the back of Cas’ head and run his fingers through his hair. Cas’ hands went to Dean’s hips, coming around to the front and toying with the button. He left Dean’s lips in favor of his neck, biting at it and sucking on it, trying to mark his territory, to claim Dean as his and his only.

 

The oven timer beeped and Dean heard Cas sigh against his neck. Cas didn’t move, keeping his face pressed into Dean’s neck.

 

“Cas, as much I would love for you to fuck me against the wall, the pizza is done.” Dean pushed Cas away and hurried into the kitchen. He wasn’t exactly turning down sex for food. After dinner, he figured Cas would pick up right where they left off.

 

Dean pulled the pizza out of the oven, a grin spreading over his face. It was perfect. The only time he could remember being prouder was when Sam got accepted to Stanford.

 

“That is impressive,” admitted Cas. Cas’ cell phone rang. “I’ll be right back,” said Cas. He pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek and went to answer his phone.

 

After checking that Cas couldn’t see into the living room, Dean snapped into action. He pulled a tablecloth from a cupboard and quickly set it on the dining room table. He set out plates, silverware, and the wine glasses he had bought just for this dinner. Dean had just finished setting up when Cas walked in.

 

“So, Meg just called to…” Cas’ voice died in his throat as he took in the burning candles, the most expensive wine Dean could afford, and the hot pizza set out like a king’s dinner. His expression softened as he smiled, and the soft, happy glow in his eyes made Dean feel like he was capable of being amazing.

 

“Dean,” Cas said softly, then groaned and let his chin drop to his chest. “Meg just called to ask me to pick up her shift. I’m sorry, but I have to leave in forty-five minutes.”

 

“Oh,” Dean said after a moment.

 

“That’s all right,” said Cas. He sat down resolutely. “I can be a little late.”

 

“You sure?” asked Dean.

 

“Of course, Dean. Sit down,” said Cas, smiling. “I want to eat the pizza you made.”

 

Dean nodded and sat down. As Cas served himself and Dean the pizza, Dean poured the wine. Cas was smiling, the little happy grin that made his eyes widen and light up. Dean loved making Cas smile like that.

 

He focused on Cas’ face as Dean took a sip of wine. Or at least, until he actually tasted the wine.

 

“That’s disgusting,” said Dean evenly, setting the glass. “That’s really bad.”

 

“Really?” asked Cas curiously, taking a sip of his own wine. His face creased. “Oh. Yeah, that’s terrible. I might not be able to enjoy the pizza now.”

 

“I spent hours working on that pizza, and you’re going to like it, assface,” said Dean, immediately defensive of his achievement.

 

“You’re the one who’s dating me, so who’s the real assface here?” Cas replied solemnly.

 

“You,” muttered Dean. Cas laughed and reached over the table to kiss Dean. Dean met him halfway.

 

Neither of them anticipated the candle falling over and setting the tablecloth on fire.

 

“Holy crap!” yelled Dean, jumping away from Cas. The first thing he reached for was the pizza. “Save the pizza!”

 

“No, save the table, dumbass!” shouted Cas. “Get the wine away from the fire!”

 

Dean grabbed the bottle and dumped it in the sink. He hurried back with a glass of water, but upon dumping it on the tablecloth, only put out part of the fire. “Give me a second, I got an idea.” Dean ran from the room.

 

“Um.” Cas glanced around wildly, and then ran to the refrigerator. He pulled it open, grabbed the milk, and poured the entire half gallon on the tablecloth. A split second later, Dean walked in with the fire extinguisher. “I got it!” he yelled, before seeing the empty carton and the wet tablecloth. Dean stared at the mess. “Or you could pour milk on it.”

 

“Sorry,” Cas said.

 

“Guess we’re having beer and pizza again,” said Dean, broad shoulders slumping. They never had time for a real romantic dinner, like real couples did.

 

“It’s different this time,” said Cas.

 

“How?”

 

“You made the pizza.”

 

Dean smiled a little. “Yeah, I did. Come on.”

 

They had their romantic dinner without wine, fancy food, candles, or a tablecloth, but somehow, neither minded much.

 

~

 

Dean was awoken by a slamming door and Cas cursing quietly at around two in the morning. Smiling sleepily, Dean stretched and waited for Cas to come in the bedroom.

 

Dean had almost fallen back to sleep when Cas stepped inside.

 

“Hey, Cas,” said Dean, grinning and sitting up. “You left a little early.”

 

“I left exactly when I told you I would leave.” Cas’ voice was stone cold, emotionless. Dean was taken aback, but he persisted.

 

“Come here,” said Dean. He stood and kissed Cas, slowly and deeply. The last time they’d kissed like this Cas had had his clothes off in under twenty seconds.

 

Not this time, though. Cas jerked back like Dean’s lips and fingers had burned him.

 

“Look, I’m tired, Dean. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning,” said Cas, turning away from Dean to change.

 

Dean frowned and reached for Cas’ hand. Cas pulled away, not letting Dean touch him. “Cas, what-“

 

“I’m going to sleep!” said Cas angrily. “Jack off or something, I don’t care. Just let me sleep.”

 

Dean stood there, his lips parted slightly and his eyebrows knit. He didn’t know where this was coming from, but he knew that it was pissing him off.

 

“What the hell has gotten into you?” demanded Dean. “A few hours ago we were fine! Now I kiss you and you start yelling?”

 

“I’m just tired, okay?” said Cas, his voice rising.

 

“No, you’re not! You’re not like this when you’re tired!” yelled Dean.

 

“And I suppose you’d know, since I got tired of you pretty quickly in high school,” retorted Cas.

 

Dean stared, struck dumb. Cas stared back, apparently realizing that what he had said wasn’t okay.

 

“I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry-” Cas began to speak, but Dean wouldn’t hear it.

 

“Get out of my room,” Dean said coldly.

 

“Dean, I-“

 

“I said, get the fuck out.” Cas’ shoulders sagged and he nodded slowly. He trudged out and went to Sam’s room. Dean heard the door slam shut.

 

Dean lay down on his bed and pulled the sheet up. To his humiliation, tears filled his eyes. Stop it, Dean told himself sternly. You’re not eighteen anymore. You can handle it. Cas is probably in trouble. There’s something wrong with him, you know there is. Suck it up and help him.

  
The more Dean thought about it, the more he convinced himself that it wasn’t Cas’ fault.                   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'd just like to quickly apologize for the wait on posting this, life got in the way for a moment but we are very happy to be back to writing this story.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean woke up groggy the next day, instantly feeling around for the warm body that was always next to him. Unfortunately, he was met with disappointment as he found that spot empty.

 

It took him awhile for him to be fully awake and once he was memories of the previous night trickled in and his tears were stinging his eyes once more. Dean wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to run away again. He wanted to be seventeen and be able to run from Cas’ house crying, not even bothering to hide the tears that fell so fast. But this time, it was his house and he was an adult; he couldn’t just cower in fear from his problems. So instead, he wandered into the kitchen only to find that same Cas smiling, with a pan of bacon sizzling quietly on the stove. It was such a drastic change from the night before that Dean felt he had gotten whiplash. But Cas wasn’t a cook. He never was, Dean did it all. It made him wonder if this all was a desperate plea for forgiveness.

 

He didn’t say anything, just sat down in a chair and watched Castiel cook the food, trying to process what was happening. He was still hung up on what Cas had said long ago. Dean knew that it was years ago but it still stung. It stung because Dean never once thought he had been a bad boyfriend, he had always believed it was a problem with having a long distance relationship. Last night however, proved otherwise.

 

“How’d you sleep?” Castiel asked brightly, placing the slightly burned bacon on a plate and setting it on the table in front of Dean, coming over only a few moments later to lay some eggs down too. Dean stared at his plate, unable to fully understand what was going on, let alone speak. All those memories of Cas from the night before were so vivid, so vivid he was having a hard time seeing anything but Cas and what he had said. It seemed especially hard not to think about it when Cas seemed hell bent on neglecting that anything even happened.

 

“I, uh,” was all he managed, watching wide eyed as Cas came and sat down, transfixed on the quickly cooling bacon on his own plate. Dean still hadn’t taken a bite.

 

And he didn’t, not for awhile until Cas finally brought it up.

 

“You feeling okay? You look a little sick,” Cas commented, leaning forward and placing the back of his hand on Dean’s forehead. Dean jerked away.

  
“No! I’m not okay. Last night you acted like, like something! I still don’t even know why and yet now everythings okay and we’re fine and nothing even happened?” He was flustered, speaking so quickly and making the most flamboyant hand gestures it surprised him how he even understood what he was saying.

 

Cas set his fork down and slowly brought those perfect hands together, lacing his fingers together, gently setting them on top of the table.

 

“I think we were both tired and thinking irrationally. I know what I said was hurtful, I shouldn’t have brought up the past but Dean, this is now. And I’m here. Let’s forget about it?”

 

Dean was still wary for most of the day, reluctant to curl into Cas’ side the way he usually did when they watched TV. The foot between them was like a canyon that night, reminding both of them how easily broken they both were. Of course, like Cas had said earlier, they were still there and Dean was more than grateful for that. He just couldn’t forget about the pain. He couldn’t forget that stabbing feeling, not one little bit, especially not when he felt a haunting feeling of depression creeping on him.

 

~~~

 

Dean spent much of the next day trying so hard, so desperately, to pull himself out of that pit of depression. It hadn’t been this bad in a long time, and so Dean found it harder to get himself out of it.

 

There were numerous attempts on Castiel’s part, all of them seeming genuine to Dean but nothing helped. Cas tried cooking more food, cuddling up to Dean, anything, everything, but nothing was enough. Dean gave in to it all, and tried to put on a smile, but he still wasn’t happy.

 

It was getting to the point where he was reminded of high school. Reminded of the empty feeling that ate him up way back then.

 

Except now, Dean didn’t hurt.

 

No, this was much worse - Dean didn’t feel anything.

 

It was a much scarier form of depression, usually resulting in Dean’s fuck ups. It was what started a lot of fights with Sam, it drove Sam to run away once before too. This numb feeling was the same reason his friends stopped talking to him. Long before Charlie or Jo he had some good friends, people he loved to be around, but they never bothered to stay and Dean never bothered to care.

 

Benny, however, was different. Benny was the sole reason that Dean was still alive and functioning.

 

So Dean did what he always did when he got bad, he called Benny.

 

“Hey brother,” Benny said as he always did, his smile as he talked was visible in Dean’s mind. Dean’s mouth twitched slightly into a half smile at those simple, but so loved, two words.

  
“Hey,” he responded, his voice sounding more pathetic and even more depressing than it did in his mind. Benny sighed, the sound of rustling crackling through the receiver.

 

“C’mon, what’s eatin’ at ya?” The older boy asked, his voice soft and friendly. Dean only sighed, mulling over his words carefully.

 

“It’s Cas.” And thats it. Just two words. Somehow Dean just couldn’t get anything else out.

 

“Dean, you gott-” Dean cut Benny off before he could say anything more.

 

“No, Benny, it was really weird okay? He went to work and when he came home he was just, off y’know? It wasn’t like he was mad at me it was just like something happened and since then he wasn’t himself.” Dean groaned to himself as he realized just what a mess he was in.

 

“Look, don’t defend him. Do not defend him,” as he always did, his voice firm and somehow still soothing.

 

“God, I know I shouldn’t I just-”

 

“Don’t even start with that,” Benny sighed, “if he’s treating you like shit again then make him leave, or you leave. You just can’t let him do that to you again, you need to remember where you were before.”  
  
Dean hated remembering, did a very fine job of keeping it out.

 

Dean paced the hallway, his words pouring out seamlessly, all that bothered him the past day, almost as if Benny was a quickly filling cup of his emotions. Dean sighed and punched the wall here and there as it all came back to him, his words putting depth to all he had been through. Finally the cup was full and Dean had no more feelings left to pour, no more tears left to fall.

 

Benny was silent for a moment. “So, not a dick?” He asked. Dean laughed quietly, shaking his head.

 

“He said he was tired and I argued that he isn’t normally like this when he’s tired. He told me that I guess I would know since he got pretty tired of me in high school.” Dean said quietly, a smile on his face and a tear rolling down his cheek. Dean finally took a seat on the couch, resting his head in his free hand, his tired feet on the coffee table. Benny didn’t say anything for the longest time that Dean doubted he was still on the other side.

 

“And-and I know that things were different back then and I know that he apologized for it and said he didn’t mean it that way but I just feel empty, Benny.”

 

It hit him again, like Thor’s hammer to his chest. He was shaking and trying to gasp for air but his lungs felt small and he felt cold and his happy outer shell was crumbling at an alarming rate. He dropped the phone, putting his head in his hands and trying to rock himself to safety, rock himself away from this mess.

 

“Sh, sh, Dean, deep breath man, you gotta stay calm.” Benny’s voice came from the small of the speaker.

 

The words didn’t help because Dean wasn’t hearing things right. It was like a whirlpool, he was spiraling down and even if Dean swam as fast as he could the opposite direction it grabbed hold of his ankles and dragged him closer to that glaring hole. He was caught in a quick descent down and the only result was misery.

 

“Dean,” Benny said, his voice snapping Dean out of his thoughts, the parental voice he needed. Dean’s breath caught in his throat and his mind halted to a stop.

 

“You can’t let your mind wander again,” he said simply.

 

“Benny,” Dean started, ready to argue.

 

“No, Dean, listen. I know things seem bad and given your history I get it but don’t assume. For all you know he could have just been tired, maybe his shift was hard on him?” Benny made things sound so reasonable and truthful that it pissed Dean off that he was so thick to have never thought of that.

 

“Nothing will change if you assume, especially if you assume the worst. Talk to him, things will work itself out if you do.”

 

Dean sighed, nodding his head even though he knew Benny couldn’t see. He knew his voice was broken and he wanted to save himself the embarrassment, Benny didn’t need to hear that all the time.

 

“Come down and see me,” Benny offered, the smile back in his voice, all hints of anything serious gone. Dean nodded again.

 

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet, cracking over the word.

 

“Alright, brother, take care of yourself.” The line went dead shortly after.

 

Dean had stopped crying by this point, Benny being so reasonable and patient that he couldn’t help but feel calm. His heart was still racing and he still felt dead inside but things were better. He didn’t feel as completely useless and worthless as he had before. Maybe it was gonna be alright after all.

 

~~~

 

It was only a few hours later but Dean was back to pacing. Back and forth, back and forth, hands wringing together. His teeth were cutting into his bottom lip, he was sure that he felt that iron taste of blood. Dean was a wreck.

 

He took Benny’s advice to heart, always did, and decided that yeah, he should talk to Cas before he let things get too out of control. It only made sense. This is what relationships were like, right? Dean reminded himself over and over that there were always problems, even in the best of relationships but they could get through it, they would get through it. They would talk about it and fix it. Dean wouldn’t push Cas next time, wouldn’t ask for sex or anything else when Cas was tired from a shift.

 

None of that realization helped his current situation though. He had no idea how to bring this all up to Cas.

 

“Cas, I know we’ve had our rough patches and-”

 

Dean shook his head, hating himself for even thinking of saying something so typical.

 

“Things last night were bad.”

 

He groaned in frustration.

 

“What you said last night really hurt me and I want to talk about it”

 

He scratched that one the moment it left his lips. He didn’t care to share how bad he was hurt over this and over high school, all of it went against his tough guy facade and the last thing he was gonna do now was give up the one thing that kept him upright.

 

He was in the middle of constructing another sentence in his mind when the door slammed open, Cas storming through and walking into Sam’s room. He didn’t even bother to shut the door.

 

Dean went over and shut it quietly, his heart racing and mind spinning dangerously fast. Cas was obviously not okay again. He was far from okay. And it didn’t help that it was nearing three-thirty in the morning. Dean was anxious and scared and he had no idea how to even approach Cas. He knew he needed to but how was beyond him. He opted for the gentle way, keeping his voice quiet and low.

 

“Cas?” He asked, tapping on the door as quietly as he could without it sounding inaudible. There wasn’t a response so he entered quietly, standing in the doorway and stopping short. The words were forming in his mind but none wanting to come out. Cas stood in front of the bed, sideways to Dean, staring silently at the wall. His face was empty, blank, emotionless and that was what scared Dean the most. He could handle anger and yelling but when things became silent, that was when things became bad.

 

“Cas?” He asked again, stepping forward once more, trying not to startle Cas.

 

“Leave,” Cas said, his voice sounding exactly the way his face looked. Dean felt his eyes well up with tears and found himself instinctively biting at his lip in an attempt to clear his eyes.

 

Dean didn’t leave, as much as he knew he should.

 

“Cas, we need to talk.” Dean took another step forward.

 

Just as he did so Cas turned to look at him, eyes filled with rage. It seemed that even being five feet apart was too close for Cas. Dean cast his eyes down, afraid, staring at the floor until something caught his eye.

 

At the end of Cas’ sleeve was a small patch of red. It stood out even with the obvious attempt to clean it and hide it. The first thing that came to mind was blood and once Dean finally processed it, he knew there was nothing that it could have otherwise been. Dean tried to hide his features but couldn’t, his surprise, worry, and confusion were all painted there, plain and obvious for Cas to see.

 

“Leave,” was all Cas said. At least this time though there was more emotion.

  
But the only emotion coloring Cas’ voice was panic, and Dean wasn’t quite sure that it was better than no emotion at all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like to contact either of the writers you could find us at [deanregrets](http://deanregrets.tumblr.com/) and [deadlyclarke](http://deadlyclarke.tumblr.com/)

"What is that?" asked Dean, unable to tear his eyes away from the glaring stain on Cas’ shirt.

“Nothing,” Cas said, splaying his hands in an attempt at looking honest. Dean noticed how Cas had maneuvered the stain out of sight. He was a good liar, Dean realized, way too good, and that scared him.

“No,” Dean said, his voice rising.

He advanced on Cas, and maybe in hindsight that wasn’t such a good idea, but Dean wasn’t thinking rationally anyway. His only focus was getting to the bottom of this, finding out what the hell was going on.

“You can’t do that. You come home, you say that shit, then the next day everything is fine. Now you’re coming home late, and you’re pissed again.” Dean was yelling now, anger seeping through the cracks in his patience.

“Just tell me what’s going on, Cas. Whatever I did, tell me. Don’t fucking cut me out like this.” Dean wasn’t really sure where all this was coming from, but he knew it was true as soon as it left his lips.

“Don’t do that,” said Cas, avoiding Dean’s eyes. “Don’t blame yourself. This is not your fault.”

“Then let me help you,” Dean said desperately. “I don’t know what’s going on but it’s obviously fucking you up. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it, I swear.”

Cas closed his eyes as if the conversation was causing him physical pain. When he opened them again, they were steely and cold.

“Stop this, Dean. This doesn’t involve you. Stop trying to make it about you.”

Dean felt as though Cas had just punched him. even then his chest might have hurt less.

“No,” Dean said quietly.

“What?”

“No,” said Dean, louder this time. “We’re not eighteen anymore, Cas. We live together. We have jobs. It’s been two years, Cas, and I’m starting to think that you’ve never said an honest word in your damn life.”

Dean only just  realized he’d been aching to say this all along, ever since Cas had begun putting distance between them a few months ago.

“Cas, I’ll stay if you need me to, but that has to be it. Keep me or cut me loose, no second chances.”

The silence stretched unbearably long, and as Cas opened his mouth, Dean’s heart sank. For a moment, he really believed that this was it. They were breaking up. They had lasted two years, two years of happiness, all for it to end with him getting back into depression. And this time, there wouldn’t be any Benny or Sam to help him.

“Stay.”

~~~

Dean woke up in an empty bed.

He was wondering why he felt so crappy until last night’s events crashed over him, and he flopped back into bed.

Dean was planning on staying home from work that day, but Cas seemed to have had the same idea. Dean grabbed his things and walked out the door without glancing at Cas.

Dean went through the day on autopilot. His lips smiled, his hands worked, his mouth talked, but there was nothing behind it, no emotion whatsoever.

He hadn’t realized it was so obvious until lunch when Charlie slammed down her pencil, demanding to know what was wrong.

“What? Nothing, I’m fine,” Dean said, raising his eyebrow. “Come on, we got a deadline to meet.”

“No, Dean, something’s wrong with you and I don’t know what but I’ll get to the bottom of this,” said Charlie, concern carving lines into her brow, “I mean, you’ve been acting weird all day.”

“Nothing. It’s- it’s Cas, that’s all. Something’s going on with him,” confessed Dean. “We almost broke up last night. He won’t tell me what’s happening. It’s freaking me out.”

Charlie’s face fell. “Oh, gods. Should I call Jo, get together after work? This Cas thing is gonna mess you up.”

“Nah, we’re gonna be okay,” said Dean, scrubbing a hand down his face. “We just- we’re just gonna have to work things out.”

“You sure?” asked Charlie, scrutinizing him.

“Yeah. I’ll let you know how things turn out,” Dean said.

“You better.” Charlie hesitated a moment, apparently trying to figure out whether she should press on with the topic. Thankfully, she picked up her pencil again and got back to work.

Dean made sure that he was a better actor this time around.

~~~

When Dean got home that day, it was after being sworn to call Charlie and tell her everything. Dean had grumbled about it, but it was nice to know Charlie had his back. She wasn’t Benny, never would be, but she could do damage control.

And Dean was expecting damage.

“Cas,” Dean said loudly as he stepped inside. He tossed his bag and jacket on the floor, not bothering to put them away. He needed to sort this out with Cas.

Cas appeared in the doorway of their bedroom. He was wearing his own clothes. Usually, Cas wore Dean’s clothes. It almost scared Dean that Cas was wearing pajamas that actually fit him.

On a normal day, Cas would walk up to Dean, run his hands through Dean’s hair, and kiss him.

That day, they stayed away from each other, until someone broke the silence.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas’ voice was cold.

“Cas.” It came out a lot quieter and a lot weaker than Dean had wanted it to. “I’ll stay, but I can’t stay with a guy who won’t look me in the eye.”

Pain flitted across Cas’ face, but only for a moment. Then he was a statue again, still and beautiful, without any feeling on his face.

“I know.”

Dean almost collapsed with relief.

“But I can’t tell you what’s happening.”

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean yelled. “Why can’t you just trust me? I’m not going to hate you or leave you!” There’s not a lot I wouldn’t do for you, he didn’t say. Dean tried to make that come out, but what he said instead was far worse and much louder. “Just tell me!”

“I can’t,” said Cas stubbornly. His face was still devoid of emotion, his once bright blue eyes dull and gray. This, more than anything else, pushed Dean over the edge.

Dean moved so quickly that Cas didn’t even have time to react. He ripped a lamp from the wall and threw it across the room, barely missing Cas. Cas flinched away, staring at Dean. Mild surprise flickered across his face, but there was nothing else, no hurt or shock. It terrified Dean. What if Cas had been faking everything? The I love yous, the morning make-out sessions, the sweaters he always bought Dean because he insisted it was cold?

What if none of it was real?

Before Dean realized he was doing it, he pushed over a chair. He ripped the Metallica poster from the wall. He picked up the ancient computer and threw it.

Dean trashed the apartment, and Cas just stood there, his expression blank and empty.

Dean stared at Cas, his eyes filling with tears. “Say something,” he breathed. “Anything. Stop me.” He walked over to Cas, crossing the room in a couple strides. He pressed his lips to Cas’, trying to gauge the reaction. Cas kissed back, but it was controlled, unenthusiastic. In an effort to elicit a reaction, Dean deepened the kiss, pressing himself against Cas.

Pulling away slightly, he stared at Cas. “Do you even love me?” asked Dean quietly.

That was what Cas broke down at. Pain seeped into his expression as tears filled his eyes, and emotion weighed down his voice as he spoke.

“Of course I do.” A beat passed. “I’ll tell you. But please, please don’t leave me.” His voice choked off, and Cas took a moment to collect himself. “Whatever you think, please don’t leave me.”

“Never,” Dean answered, and he meant it with all of his heart.

Dean made tea, although he had trouble finding two mugs that he hadn’t shattered. Ten minutes later, though, they were both sitting on the couch, facing each other. The stupid shirt that Cas had been wearing, the stained one, was lying on the couch between them. Cas had his legs pulled up, his mug resting on his knees. Neither had spoken a word. Cas seemed to be steeling himself.

When he finally began speaking, he held out his shirt, showing Dean the glaringly bright spot that had started this whole mess. Cas’ voice was shaky at first, but steadied as he continued.

“This is the blood of Doris Etherhart,” he began. “She’s fifty-three, a single mother of two. She lives in Queens, near the college where her oldest kid goes. She works in the Empire State Building, in advertising. She goes home late every night. She always takes the same car service home.”

Dean watched Cas with growing curiosity or horror, he couldn’t tell which. “Her ex-husband is bitter, and he is only here on a business trip. Her younger child is on heroin.”

Cas plowed on, eyes fixed on Dean’s. There was a shocking amount of tenderness and love in his gaze. If you couldn’t hear what he was saying, you might think that he was telling Dean beautiful words of love and endearment.

**  
“I killed her sixteen hours ago.”**


End file.
